Catching up at last

A wedding … one transatlantic crossing by sea … one house purchase … one mad and deluded vendor … 20 weeks of builders onsite … one legal battle with Cypriot bureaucracy … one lawyer’s  suggestion to sue the Government in the European Courts … one sneaky workaround to get round said bureaucracy … two minor operations … one set of demolished external stairs … lots of fruit trees … several hammered thumbs whilst building a kitchen … an awful lot of paint, and filler, and sanding, and non-square walls … some visitors … some temporary electrics … a few rats … some fresher air and cooler evenings

So, we’re back after a break of almost 15 months.  The intention had always been to keep the blog going but circumstances have kept us rather busy of late.  Of course, there’s nothing quite like being accosted, in the toilets of a hotel during a wedding reception, by a total stranger saying …

“I know who you are, I used to read your blog!“

… to bring on the guilt of letting things slip.

We have now moved, to a property which we first saw and made an offer on in Spring ‘08.  It took until December for us to get vacant possession and then until July ‘09 before it was fit to inhabit.  Considering the previous (see deluded, above) owner said it needed nothing more than a little light replastering and a coat of paint that may give an indication of some of the challenges that have kept us busy over the last year or so ago.

Technically the blog should be renamed …

‘VillageUpInTheHillsAbout30MinsDriveFromLarnaca-Tales‘

… but that seems rather wordy so, for the time being we’ll stick with AradippouTales even though we’ve left Aradippou behind us.

Welcome back :-)

Legal, at last!

After two years, two months and one day the car finally has legal, legitimate Cypriot number plates.

Those of you with long memories may recall that we bought a new, VAT-free, car in England a month before we left. The VAT-free status was permitted as we intended to remove the car from the country within two months. The payback was that we would, ultimately, need to pay VAT in Cyprus once the car was registered.

Meanwhile the car was a corner-stone of Op Keo, our ‘leaving England’ plan. Our intention was to spend three weeks driving to Cyprus and stopping at all of the places in Europe that we’d always wanted to see. We did just that and had an absolutely wonderful time – well, apart from the night that we accidentally booked into a German Sanatorium.

Anyway, once we arrived in Cyprus our carefully crafted plan for importing the car fell apart. Arriving on hot and sunny Friday afternoon our case was considered to be too complex and the car was impounded, The following Monday we were allowed to remove it from Limassol and place it in a bonded warehouse in Larnaca to begin the official import process.

To assist we employed a local agent with the intention that she, rather than us, would travel to Nicosia on a periodic basis to progress our claim. Over the course of the last two years she has liaised with officials, produced copies of documents and apparently argued our case.

In truth we have to wonder if she has been a help or a hindrance. Yes, her language skills and knowledge of the process have been helpful, but in reality her ability to follow-up on any actions have been sadly lacking. Today, when we finally took delivery of the new number plates we discovered that she applied for them in late May and has been driving around with them in her car since then.

Nevertheless, the process is now done. The car is legal, she has shiny new plates and (all being well) we need never deal with the importation department in Nicosia ever again. In the final analysis we probably didn’t save a huge amount of money. The VAT we paid was at 15% rather than at 17.5% but we paid some registration fees and a (very small) amount of money to the agent. But, buying in England gave us a wonderful new car to allow us to drive here and fulfill that dream.

On that note, just one anecdote to give a flavour of the way things work here.

After the car had been moved to the bonded warehouse in Larnaca we were required to attend the local customs office to complete paperwork and, hopefully, give us temporary rights to drive the car. One of the office assistants at the bonded warehouse was tasked with accompanying us to the customs office to oversee the process. It occurred to her that once she had dealt with us she had another case, in another direction, to deal with and that it would therefore make sense to take two cars. Apart from her car the only other available vehicle was our impounded car.

“Ahhh, you should follow me in your car. But make sure you don’t park near to the office windows as we don’t want the import officer to see the car. After all, it is supposed to be in the warehouse still! ”

Life may be simpler now that the car is legal :-)

Catching Up

I know, I know. We sort of disappeared off the face of the world for a while. Sorry ’bout that and all!

Summer has truly arrived, in fact we’re in the middle of a heatwave according to the government, not unlike last year. This year’s heat is made more challenging by the continuing lack of water. Rationing has now been in place for several months and impacts our lives much more that we anticipated. More of that later perhaps.

In other news we’ve just waved goodbye to our second set of visitors this summer. Both sets had good hot weather, possibly hotter than they might have wanted, and managed to get out and about to see the sites as well as fitting in a fair few beach days. With both we headed to Nicosia and crossed through to the north via the newly opened Ledra Street crossing.

We also managed a couple of weeks off the island sailing across the Atlantic … again. We had such a good time last year that we gave in and booked the same trip once more. As last year the crossing was fantastic, the boat was wonderful and the company was excellent. And, with a crew of 200 or so and only 81 passengers we were spoiled rotten. Long may that continue ;-)

While we were away we managed to pick up a number of bits and pieces that either aren’t available here or are simply too overpriced to justify buying them. Top of the list was a tiny computer for traveling and for use out of the house. Right now, while the temperatures are in the mid 30s and the air isn’t moving it is bliss to be able to update the blog from the comfort of the shaded patio rather than a hot study.

And, in amongst everything else, we’re trying to buy a house. Just a small place, a little way up in the hills where it might be a little cooler. There are a few glitches with the sale (including the small matter of the house being four times the size that the Land Registry think it should be) so no more of that until there’s something definite to report!

Migration!

Recently we had a few days in the north of Cyprus on a sort-of walking trip with a group of friends. Putting aside the politics of living on a divided island it was, as always, fascinating to compare and contrast the two ‘halves’ of Cyprus.

As we crossed the border all signage switched to Turkish, place names changed to their local equivalents (which can make for interesting map reading), the main religion became Muslim rather than Orthodox Christian (with all the associated differences that brings) and the culture altered distinctly.

To some extent the cultural differences are always going to be there on moving from one country to another but here it is so stark because of the hard division of the two areas and the deliberate separation of the two cultures. Of course we use the word country with reservation. Still, the only people who recognise the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC) as a country are Turkey themselves and North Korea.

That aside, it was our first time in the far north-east end of the island. Officially it is known as the Karpas peninsula, colloquially it is known as the Panhandle due to its shape. The area boasts some of the best beaches on the island, many of which are completely undeveloped. Turtles nest on a number of them and other wildlife is abundant.

Just how abundant that wildlife is became fantastically clear while we were there. The group had just set out on a walk up into the hills when we became aware of a bird migration event taking place above us. The sky on the horizon was suddenly full of moving black dots and they were coming our way.

Within a few minutes it became apparent these were flocks of birds – coming in from north of Cyprus, and heading pretty much directly south. Over the next two hours we saw countless V formations of birds flying overhead. A simple count put about 40 to 60 birds in each V , and dozens of V formations. A calculated guess put the count at over 2,000 birds.

Some basic bird-watching skills and knowledge within the group identified the birds to be Demoiselle Cranes. If so they would have been en-route from their northern summer location somewhere around the Black Sea to their wintering area in the midst of Africa. Demoiselle Cranes are the long legged, long necked, smallest members of the Crane family, weighing in at about 4 to 7 pounds.

During their passage overhead we were all in awe – there wasn’t a member of the group who wasn’t moved by this sight. As each new wave appeared the walk was forgotten and people stood and watched and marvelled. This was nature in action – forget us humans – ‘we are programmed to move from North to South, and we are on our way.’

Once they had passed there was a noticeable drop in conversation as we all pondered on what we had seen. From the things we just don’t understand – just how do the cranes know to do this? – through to the overwhelming majesty and how lucky we were to be in place to see part of this annual event – followed by a worrying wonder what man might be doing to destroy the habitats these beautiful creatures seek to use…….

The Saving Cranes website has some good photos (some of which are reproduced here) although sadly not of the V formations in flight. A couple of people in the group had cameras so we may be able to get copies of their photos in due course.

Almost, but not quite

On the road on the way to the beach we drive passed a road sign in Greek and translated into English.

Glancing at the sign, at a distance, it’s clear that there are supposed to be some traffic calming measures ahead. Actually, we’re pretty sure there aren’t any but that’s another issue.

On closer inspection though the English translation just doesn’t work!

Sailing the Atlantic

The plan when we moved here was to downsize our life, including our expenses. Reducing the household income by 90% in exchange for not having to work tends to focus the mind like that! That said, there has always been a budget line for holidays and we always intended to get away from time to time, in a frugal sort of way.

So, how did we end up spending two weeks sailing across the Atlantic on a five-masted luxury cruise ship? Ahh, well it’s a story that involves Mandy, a website offering last minute cruise deals and a late night sign-up to their newsletter by her alter-ego The Reverend M.

Neither of us are “cruise people”; we used take holidays in remote Scottish cottages in November where there’s no mobile phone signal. We’re not really “different port on each day” sort of people, we like peace and tranquility and a quiet life. We’re also not keen on the idea of of having to have dinner with pre-assigned strangers, neither of us is that fond of having to make small talk with people we don’t know. And we are really, really not “charades on the aft main deck at 11am” sort of people.”

But wandering through a website Mandy found a cruise company that only has sailing ships – yes, they have engines too but aim to travel under sail for as much of each trip as possible. And so we chuckled and said if we were, ever, to take a cruise it would have to be on something like this.

And, then we saw that they have open dining programme where you can have dinner just as a two-some or with as many other people as you like. And, ohhh, look twice a year they reposition their boats from the Caribbean to the Mediterranean and vice versa. 14 days of uninterrupted sailing with no ports, no excursions, nothing but the motion of the sea.

But of course this is 5* cruising and isn’t cheap, even for an oddity like a well priced repositioning cruise.

Remember Rev M’s late-night sign up to a late deals newsletter?

The newsletter dropped into Mandy’s mailbox, along with a dozen or more random offerings she gets each day. A quick skim spotted the name of the now notorious cruise line “if we were ever to go on a cruise … “. A further look showed that they had a late deal on the West-East repositioning cruise, sailing in two and an half weeks time. The price was nice, actually the price was fantastic but of course that would just be one part of a trip. We would need a flight to the Caribbean, a flight back from Western Europe, hotels at both ends ….

From Wednesday evening, when the email arrived, to Saturday morning Mandy sat at her desk and searched and researched and cross-referenced and plotted. “It’s just an intellectual exercise” she said. “I just want to see if I could make it work”. She routed us from Cyprus to Frankfurt to London to New York before on to the Caribbean all to minimise costs. She tried to make use of BA AirMiles, American Airmiles and any other loyalty scheme we had left over from our corporate days. She read travel websites and cruise discussion boards to get the best hints and tips.

By Saturday evening there was an air of exhaustion and defeat in the house. The only way to make this work was an expensive, but obscure, routing through Germany which would use Airmiles but would leave us with less than two hours to touch down in Barbados and make it to the boat, and only then if the flights into and out of NY were on time. All of the possibilities were made more complex, and more expensive, by the fact that the Cricket World Cup was underway in the Caribbean.

We were just about to give up on this “intellectual exercise” when Mandy frowned, muttered I wonder … other ship … earlier sailing … and disappeared back to her desk.

An hour later we had a plan that involved the crossing with a week earlier on another ship from the same line. When offices opened the following day we had bookings for a cabin and direct London – Barbados flights, on Airmiles.

Of course we only had one week before sailing, and two days before we had to leave home but, apparently we thrive on these challenges and intellectual exercises!

Ferry #1: Italy to Greece

When we were joining the dots on our map of the journey there were two givens; the ferry from Venice to Patras, and the ferry from Athens to Limassol. The second was non-negotiable, there was no other way to make the final jump to Cyprus with the car.

The first was practical more than anything – we could take the ferry from Italy to the west coast of Greece, or we could drive from Italy through Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia and Macedonia to Athens. An extra five countries and 1,000 miles, or a day and a half on a ferry. OK, perhaps not such a tough choice.

It turns out that Venice is a huge start point both major cruise liners and for ferries. Having spent so long looking at Venice from the inside, it was strange to see it from such a different perspective.

Venice from the sea

We arrived at the departure dock on Sunday, having paid the required ransom for the car. As we searched for our ferry we had to acknowledge that, paperwork wise, this was one of the weak links of the trip.

We had a handwritten number on a 3×5 index card.

That was it – no printed confirmation, certainly no ticket, just a single six digit number which would, allegedly be the key to getting the car onto the ferry and us into a cabin. Of course that was just training for the angst of Ferry #2 but that’s a story for another day.

In the end, our concerns were unfounded. We handed over our precious number and were given tickets, in triplicate, in return. Ian and the car took two of the tickets and headed for the queue for entry to the car deck. Mandy picked up all of the bags and took the final ticket and went in search of the cabin. She was later heard to comment that she might have got the rough end of the deal and perhaps trying to shoehorn the car into the vehicle deck, in between a variety of articulated lorries might have been easier.

Travel companions for the car

Cabin found and bags stowed we headed off to explore our home for the next two days. When booking we’d had a myriad of options to choose from. Inside cabins, outside cabins, cabins for two, for four, with shower, camping on deck…….. camping on deck?

We were suitably baffled but, since there was no way that Mandy was going to agree to camp on deck we ignored it. However, as soon as we started exploring the Sophocles all became clear. People were, well, camping on deck. These would be the people who had been queuing to board whilst holding cool boxes, pillows and in some cases camp beds.

It seems that some people who take this route regularly see no reason for a cabin, and sleeping on deck is much cheaper. Actually, paying to sleep on deck but then camping out in the stairwell, the corridors and the lounges seemed to be the order of the day. With the amount of organisation that some families had gone into they may have been more comfortable than we were. Once the prime corridors had gone people began picking suitable spots on the deck. Whilst it was warm and sunny during the day the temperature was due to drop at night so sheltered spots were much prized.

We had found a quiet corner outside and were sitting enjoying the view when it became apparent that we were occupying a prime spot. A family of four moved their belonging to right next to our chairs. They then inflated the air beds, fluffed out the sleeping bags and pulled pillows out of bags. When their belongings started to get piled at our feet we took the hint and left them to it.

Camping on deck

Class Distinctions!

We had the option of two ferry services. Different ferry lines, slightly different speeds and therefore journey times, but essentially the same service. Over the course of the trip we passed, or were passed by the other ferry several times. Their ability to do three-point turns at sea is impressive!

Catching up with the other ferry

The trip itself was relatively uneventful. We left Venice early on Sunday morning and eventually arrived in Patras late on Monday night, having stopped off in Corfu and Igoumenitsa.

No, we’d never heard of Igoumenitsa either. A little research established that it used to be a pretty fishing village on the west coast of Greece. It is now the western-most end of the Egnatia motorway which runs through Greece as far as the border with Turkey. Considered to be the most expensive construction project in modern Greek history, the motorway when completed is expected to have cost €6 billion. When we docked dozens of lorries off-loaded and headed to the start of the motorway – about a quarter of a mile from the harbour entrance.

Almost there – Dusk over the Greek coastline

Finally, we sailed into Patras. By now it was late and, considering that we’d done nothing constructive for the last day and a half, we were tired. All we needed to do was to do now was to load the car, get off the ship and find our hotel for the night …..

….. You’ve probably read enough of this blog to know that things didn’t go quite that smoothly. But, have you ever known anyone get trapped on a vehicle deck of a ferry with 40 degree temperatures?

No, thought not ;-)

Venice

So, from Hotel Heaven on to Venice.

This was a slightly odd bit of the trip. On paper it made absolute sense to spend time in Venice but Mandy was, well, indifferent. However, we needed to be in Venice early on Sunday morning to catch Ferry #1 and she’d never been there so she was a bit thin on decent arguments to stay anywhere else. So, she did the obligatory hotel search and booked us into a place near to the Jewish quarter.

We left Hotel Heaven, reluctantly, and drove East towards Venice. Then, just a quick trip over the causeway and into the biggest car park in Europe. Amazing the stuff that you find in these guidebooks! The car was parked – or ransomed considering the cost of a couple of nights in this place – and we headed off to catch a vaporetto to the hotel.

It turned out that the stock room photo that the hotel used to show how grand and spacious their rooms were (a likely story – this is Venice you know) was the one that they’d put us in. Really, a king size bed, spare chaise long and more cherubs and gold leaf than was strictly necessary.

Absurdly opulent hotel room

The hotel turned out to be perfectly placed for hopping on vaparettos and exploring Venice.

So we did, all weekend. And Mandy loved every minute of it ;-)

We did the usual touristy things, including a visit to the island of Murano, home of the glassmakers of Venice. Whilst Mandy was ogling a hand-painted vase a salesman was calculating his commission, seeing an easy sale. Our glib response of Sorry, driving to Cyprus and there’s no spare room in the car was countered, very quickly, with an offer to ship the vase anywhere in the world for an extra €40, complete with insurance so that if it was damaged in transit they would replace it free of charge. We came close to giving in but escaped with the credit card intact.

Handmade Murano glass vase

Apart from the Murano trip we worked our way across Venice, periodically bumping into crowds of Brits watching England exit the World Cup. We visited St Mark’s, ate pasta and generally acted like tourists. The pace was entirely different to the previous couple of stops and we probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it quite so much if we hadn’t had the peacefulness of Lake Garda.

Anyway, early Sunday morning saw us checking out of the hotel and heading off in search of Ferry #1.

Obligatory photo of the Rialto Bridge

The Hail Storm

As a break from the travelogue …….. on our first morning at Hotel Heaven a hail storm hit. The noise was enough to wake everyone in the hotel.

View from our room looking towards Lake Garda – 8:06am

Close up of hail stones

View from our room looking towards Lake Garda – 10:38am

Hotel Heaven

Do you believe in karma? If so, them this might amuse. If the Sanatorium was Hotel Hell then as we left Innsbruck we were heading to Hotel Heaven.

Leaving Innsbruck we managed to get horribly lost. Mands, our trusty navigator, was heard to swear on more than one occasion. However, we eventually broke free from Innsbruck and headed for the Brenner Pass. Strangely just before we left England Mandy’s father mentioned that he’d once walked the Pass during his Army days. The story revolved around scheduled leave, free rail tickets and a sense of curiosity. Those of you who know him will see how these things could fit together :-)

The Pass itself was fairly unremarkable. It’s a good road, the scenery is wonderful but, in all, it just was. So, from Austria and into Italy, country number seven according to Ian’s notes!

We were booked into a hotel on the west shore of Lake Garda. As with all of our overnight stays, Mands had booked this online before we left. It, and the other hotels were checked, cross-checked, price-checking and reviewed via independent sites any booking was made.

This hotel was, well, odd. The price was high, but then Lake Garda is. The photos were fantastic. The reviews were almost non-existent. There was a slight nervousness about the lack of reviews, but those photos …….

Image from the hotel’s website

We got lost finding the hotel, that was obviously the theme of the day :-) When we found the place they said they used minimal signage to stop people finding the place by accident. OK said we. Later we understood.

The hotel turned out to be a converted monastery with less than 20 rooms. The owners had bought the property almost ten years previously and had spent a significant amount of time restoring it. They’d opened as a hotel only three months ago. The remains of original frescos lined the stairs, sleeping labradors snored gently by the front door. The receptionist picked up a walk-about phone and took us on a tour of the hotel. She asked us to think of the place as our home rather than a hotel. She was perfectly serious.

Our intention had been to use the hotel as a base for exploring the area. We wanted to look around Lake Garda, people had spoken highly of Verona and Padua so we planned to spend time there also. In the end we did none of these things, in fact we didn’t leave the hotel for the full two days. Other guests said the same sort of thing.

Well, we’d planned to go and see things but it was so nice here that we just stayed.

Instead we slept, swam, gossiped with other guests, slept more, ate, explored the olive groves, ate some more and then slept.

Just off the dining room

Much of the food came from the grounds. All of the olive oil came from their annual single pressing of the olives. Strawberries and blueberries from the kitchen garden appeared each morning for breakfast. Early pumpkins and courgettes must have been in season as starters of fresh pumpkin ravioli and a courgette mousse were on the menu. Don’t be concerned, we didn’t turn into vegetarians. A balsamic steak with parmesan and pine nuts followed on one night, and a pistachio crusted rack of lamb on another.

One oddity on the dining side was a lack of wine list. On ordering food we were asked if the manager could select an appropriate wine to accompany the meal. We agreed, if a little nervously. The wine turned out to be wonderful and from a vineyard within 5 miles of the hotel. When we checked out and got the bill it was certainly a reasonable price also.

We reluctantly checked out two days later, vowing to return at a later date. Next stop, Venice.

The view from the hotel